


In The Closet

by my inner glow (misha_anon)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Claustrophobia Warning, Community: spnkink_meme, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Prompt Fill, bossy!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/my%20inner%20glow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dry humping in a closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Closet

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/73050.html?thread=25495130#t25495130). Dean's POV still needs tons of work and I couldn't resist that title.

“What time did you tell Sam to be here?”  Dean’s been standing in this stupid, cramped supply closet in this stupid, haunted museum with Castiel for at least an hour now and he’s ready to get on with the next part of the plan.  When an answer doesn’t come immediately, he turns to look at his partner in hiding.  “Cas?”

“I told him exactly what you said to tell him.  Three a.m.”  Castiel’s clipped tone sounds as annoyed as Dean feels and it’s somehow a consolation.  

Dean heaves what is at least his hundredth martyred sigh and shifts his weight from on foot to the other, his hip accidentally dragging across Castiel’s crotch.  Castiel jumps at the touch, breath catching; a sound he tries to cover by clearing his throat.  In the dim light spilling in through the crack under the door Dean can see the slight widening of the angel’s eyes.  For the first time Dean can remember, Castiel looks away first.  The wall behind Dean’s head has suddenly become absolutely fascinating to him.

Dean nonchalantly shifts again while Castiel tries - to no avail - to take a step back.  This time his hand brushes against Castiel’s half hard cock, drawing a gasp, and the wait for Sam seems much less annoying.  Castiel’s back is already against the wall when Dean turns to face him and takes the shuffling step that closes the six inch gap between their bodies.  He presses his thigh between Castiel’s legs and is rewarded with a soft choked noise from Castiel’s throat and blue eyes that go wider still.

“Something the matter, Cas?”  When Dean pushes his hips forward, Castiel’s respond in kind.  He grinds against Dean’s thigh, tentative and licking his lips as his breath comes a little shorter and there’s no way Dean could _miss_ the hardness of his cock.

“No,” he answers, slow and thick, brows knit as he pushes toward Dean again.  Another soft gasp and  a shiver accompany the movement and Dean pushes back, his thigh sliding more fully between Castiel’s legs as he starts to grind.  He rolls his hips, cock hardening at the increased friction and the hitched and sighed breaths he’s drawing from between Castiel’s parted lips.

Castiel looks nervous, eyes flicking away from Dean’s and then back.  He studies Dean’s face, eyes widening with each push forward and going half-closed each time Dean pulls back only to repeat in slow motion.  Castiel’s breath is warm against Dean’s skin as he pushes harder, grinding in before he pulls back.

“You like it, then?”  Dean’s voice is rough in his own ears, distant and soft and it makes Cas shiver head to toe, his body jerking forward until he’s pressed fully against Dean.  Castiel doesn’t answer except with a tiny nod, but the way he’s biting his lips together and starting to thrust to meet Dean halfway is all the answer that’s necessary.

Dean leans into Castiel to push him back against the wall and he tenses briefly before his body goes soft.  It’s a struggle to keep the pace slow with the half-lidded, blissful expression that’s settled on Castiel’s face and when the the first moan slips between his lips, it’s a lost cause.  Sweat prickles on Dean’s shoulders and he can see the first beads forming on Castiel’s temples as they rock together in a seesaw motion, Castiel’s breaths coming soft and ragged and with throaty sounds of pleasure appended.

After a long moment of shared breaths and heat and the rising scent of sex in the too-small space, Castiel pushes forward frantically, mouth half open on a whimper as he tries to catch Dean’s lips in a kiss.  Dean feels Castiel’s hands on his jacket, scrabbling for purchase as he ducks away from the kiss with a breathy chuckle.  Another whimper, needy and whined and a half formed whisper of Dean’s name do nothing to shake his resolve as he pulls Castiel’s hands away from his jacket and pins them between their bodies, fingers closed tightly around his wrists.

“Just relax.”

Castiel shudders and ruts against Dean’s thigh, hips moving faster and faster.  He’s rock hard, dragging his erection in a frenzied need for the friction Dean’s body provides.  His moans come steadily, hoarse and torn from his throat as he pants and tries and tries again to get a kiss.  When Dean dodges his lips and squeezes his wrists harder between their grinding bodies, Castiel groans and the sound goes straight through Dean like a shot.  He fucks against Castiel in short, sharp thrusts, watching every twitch of every muscle in his face as the beaded sweat starts to run down his temples, over his cheeks.

“Dean!”

Castiel’s body goes tight as he cries out and drops his hips, grinding savagely and Dean feels like someone’s set fire to his spine when he’s hit with the needy mewls that slip out between bitten lips.  When Castiel closes his eyes and drops his chin to his chest in the tight quarters, Dean releases one wrist and reaches up to thumb along his jaw and push his face back up, overwhelmed with the need to watch.  Castiel’s eyes squeeze tight and his head jerks back, thumping against the wall as he arches into Dean’s thrusts.

“C’mon, Cas.  I wanna see you come.”

“Dean..”  It’s a murmur as Castiel’s brow furrows again in concentration and Dean is grinding mercilessly, thumb pressed lightly against the now pounding pulsepoint on Castiel’s throat as he swallows and moans.  His eyes open wide and wild, black pupils and whites showing in the dingy stolen light and the need in them is the hottest thing Dean has ever seen.  Castiel manages to get his hands away from Dean’s grip and he latches onto the lapels of Dean’s coat, holding on like a drowning man while he shoves his hips forward again and again, an erratic pace punctuated by harsh gasps until he stops breathing at all.

Dean watches Castiel’s eyes flutter closed and the way he tilts his head back again, taking that as his cue to rolls his hips hard and steady.  Another cry of pleasure washes over Dean in a hot breath, sending goosebumps across his shoulders and down his back.  Castiel’s face tightens again and a long, grunted moan accompanies the jerking of his cock against Dean’s thigh.  He ruts, whimpering and sweaty and shivering against Dean’s body.  Dean is throbbing hard, need like needles under his skin, but he can’t bring himself to give in to his own pleasure or look away from the view of Castiel’s clenched jaw and drawn brow as his hips stutter helplessly again and again.

He swallows hard when Castiel draws a deep, shuddery breath and his face relaxes.  He’s leaned heavily against the wall, held up by the press of Dean’s body as he trembles and offers up soft moans.  Dean slides his thumb back up to Cas’ jaw, strokes lightly over his rough stubble and sweaty skin.  Castiel’s eyes are closed, lips parted on his ragged breaths.  Dean licks his suddenly dry lips and swallows again, watching in appreciative silence the way the subtlest of emotions play across the angel’s beautiful face; calm then worry then calm again and finally a faint smile.

“Gorgeous.”  Dean rumbles before he leans in, presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Castiel’s smiling mouth, and then settles their cheeks together.  He slides his hand up further to cup Castiel’s face and stroke gently.  It’s much too hot for all these jackets, but neither man complains.  Castiel slowly releases the grip on Dean's jacket and lets his arms fall to his sides when Dean starts to nuzzle against his jaw.  

They rest together, chest to chest and cheekbone to cheekbone as Castiel’s breath slows and his involuntary shivers taper off and Dean pronounces it good.  For one rare moment, he's in no hurry to be anywhere but right where he's at.  The tentative knock on the door that must mean Sam finally decided to show up is the impetus for Dean’s hundred-and-first martyred sigh of the night.


End file.
